


Wouldn’t It Be Nice?

by fakebodies



Series: Eric/Adam/Art [2]
Category: Saw (Movies)
Genre: (With Art — Eric and Adam are established), Fluff, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28959279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakebodies/pseuds/fakebodies
Summary: Adam, Eric, and Art have their regular Friday night dinner, but maybe it’s as more than just friends this time.(I just want Eric Matthews to be happy.. man)
Relationships: Adam Faulkner-Stanheight/Eric Matthews, Art Blank/Eric Matthews, Art Blank/Eric Matthews/Adam Faulkner-Stanheight
Series: Eric/Adam/Art [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2192484
Kudos: 11





	Wouldn’t It Be Nice?

It was nice, having Art over. This little slice of normalcy in their fucked up lives. The kitchen in Eric and Adam’s apartment is small, but always filled with laughter on these nights. It’s as much about friendship as it is about making sure they’re all still alive— that seed of paranoia, that someone might come for them again. So they meet, every Friday, regular as clockwork.

Art still has a scar on his cheek, jagged and deep, but it never stops him from smiling so bright his cheeks must hurt. He hugs them both with one arm, the other carrying a bag of groceries, because “you assholes can never shop for yourselves.”

Eric flips him the bird and Art flips it right back, as he gets out their cheap plastic cups to pour wine into. He accuses their kitchen of being a disgrace, but his voice is warm, affectionate. They toast each other, sipping wine from shitty cups while Art starts getting out pans to cook. Adam heads to the record player, flipping through their music for something good. He settles on a worn Beach Boys album, a gift from his grandfather when he’d gotten his first record player in high school. What can Adam say? He’d always liked older media.

Art hums approvingly, and even Eric starts to tap his foot. The music is upbeat, exactly the kind of thing they need for one of their little breaks from the world. Adam takes Eric’s hand, pulling him away from the table so they can dance. Art glances over his shoulder, his laughter loud. Whenever Art joined them, it was like he was made to be part of their lives, slotting perfectly in. Before long, their food is done, all of them cramming onto the small sofa. Eric is in the middle, and Adam can tell by the blush on his cheeks each time that it’s his favorite. Sandwiched between them, loved. Cherished.

It’s true, no matter how Adam looks at it— Art loves Eric, and Eric loves him back. Adam loves Art for that, if he’s being honest. Maybe not in the same way; they _are_ friends, and good ones, but Adam knows what it’s like to go through hell with someone. If Lawrence had kept his promise, Adam’s sure he’d love him, would look at him the same way Art and Eric look at each other. He’s not jealous. Eric looks at him with just as much love. There’s no way he could doubt his boyfriend. No, he’s _happy_. Eric deserves all the love the world can give him.

When they’re done eating, empty bowls stacked on the coffee table, Adam feels an arm settle around his shoulders. He glances over to see Eric’s other arm around Art. The lawyer winks at him, and Adam breaks into a grin— they have the same thought, two best friends about to get in trouble. Together, they lean up to press a kiss to Eric’s stubble-covered cheeks, watching him turn beet red. Art’s hand closes around Adam’s arm, pulling him closer so they can squeeze Eric. Still blushing, Eric kisses Adam, then rests his forehead against Art’s.

“You two are going to fucking kill me.” he grumbles, but the edge is lost when he’s got his nose buried in Art’s dark curls.

“Maybe, but you love it.” Art meets Adam’s gaze, eyes sparkling. Adam squeezes his arm affectionately— he may not love Art the same way Eric does, but he knows they share a bond: loving Eric. Wanting to do everything they can for him. Adam looks away long enough to press a kiss to Eric’s jaw, before asking a question he can’t believe he never asked before.

“Art, you wanna stay the night?”

Eric looks between them, suddenly guilty. Like he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to want that. Both of them, loving him. His questioning eyes meet Adam’s, and he relaxes somewhat when he finds only warmth. Art looks surprised too, but he seems to be on the same page as Adam: they’ve been building towards this without ever realizing it.

“I’d love to. I just want to run and get some clean clothes first.” Art nods, smiling softly.

“We’ll clean up while you’re out.” Adam smiles back. Eric is still too dumbstruck to speak, looking at them like they’ve just started speaking in tongues. Art presses a quick kiss to Eric’s cheek, hugging Adam before he heads out. When they’re alone, Eric looks at Adam and says one word:

“ _What?_ ”

“You love him.” Adam responds, perfectly matter of fact. Eric’s answering look is ashamed, and he starts to argue— Adam shuts him up with a finger pressed to his lips.

“I don’t love Art the same way, but he’s my best friend. He and I want the same thing: for you to be happy. It’s okay to want this, Eric. I promise.”

Eric looks like he could cry for a moment, quickly shoving those feelings away in favor of pulling Adam into a crushing hug. Letting out a small “oof,” Adam laughs as he hugs back, fingers brushing through Eric’s short hair. They eventually untangle and get the dishes taken care of, drying the last one right as Art buzzes them.

When they fall into bed that night, Eric sandwiched between them, it’s the most natural thing in the world. Art’s hand rests comfortably on Adam’s arm, but he’s smiling at Eric. Adam knows exactly how he feels. The moment he met Eric, in one of Bobby Dagen’s idiotic survivor meetings, it felt like they were meant for each other. The longer they live together, the more perfect it all feels. Art joining them is just another layer, and Adam couldn’t be happier for it. Eventually, Eric gives in and rolls over onto his side, burying his face against Adam’s chest. Art slots against Eric’s back, wrapping his arms around his middle, and Adam watches Eric visibly relax.

Before they all drift off, he and Art share silent, knowing smiles. Eric never fell asleep this fast, but here he is, breathing already mellow and death-grip on Adam’s shirt relaxed. They both know this is it— sharing Eric, loving him, seeing him happy... This isn’t just nice.

This is _perfect_.


End file.
